A Night in Eternity
by ElizaLento
Summary: Post-Inheritance and prequel to A Moment in Eternity: A century has passed since the defeat of the Empire and the birth of the new riders.It is a night filled with dancing, mead and magic."You keep me at peace too, Arya. You are my greatest friend." ExA.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a prequel to my other fanfiction _A Moment in Eternity_. You don't have to have read that one to read this, but it is encouraged that you do read it. There are connections between them. If you've read it, this is about the event that Eragon mentions in that story.  
><strong>

**This is rated M for a reason. It is still rather safe and not descriptive, but the sex is there. It is just handled with care because I couldn't bear to avoid it or fade it out/end the chapter/page break it etc.**

**I hope you enjoy it! I'm probably going to have to comb for random typos and grammar errors, so sorry about those! Also thank you for the insane support and feedback I got from _A Moment in Eternity_, for those of you who wanted more- I hope this lives up to your expectations!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle or it's characters!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>A Night in Eternity<strong>

**Chapter I**

**A Night of Celebration**

Eragon was walking amongst the festivities, mead in one hand while his other wiped his brow.

It was a hot and humid summer night, the clear skies above dotted with hundreds of thousands of stars. Settled at the base of the slowly thriving town that surrounded the Rider's castle on the mountain, the Riders, elves that had chosen to move to the island and visitors celebrated before the edge of the forest. Magic hummed through the air as the people danced, drank and laughed.

The dragons, both wild and partnered, roamed throughout the glade while others took flight, soaring through the night sky, torrents of coloured fire spiralling out of their jaws while the spectators below cheered.

It had been a hundred years to the day Eragon had slain Galbatorix, a day that had ended his tyranny and the freedom of the dragons who now flourished alongside their riders and wildlings. The celebration was in honour of his victory, but mostly it celebrated the rebirth of the riders.

Saphira had surrounded herself with barrels of mead while men and women danced before her; a great emerald dragon settled beside her, Fírnen had his tongue lapping inside a barrel for his jaws were too massive to fit.

Eragon took a sip from his mug as he absentmindedly searched for Fírnen's rider amongst the dancing and drinking partiers.

He found her conversing with a couple of riders and a few of the elven spell casters that had journeyed with him to this land nearly a century ago. Her voice chimed through the night air, almost lost to the music and voices of the celebration. But not to Eragon, for Arya's voice had ingrained itself into him, and his mind was always aware of her when she spoke, singling in at the sound of her voice.

They had started the party at each other's side, for she was a dragonslayer as much as he was a kingslayer, but the demands of fellow riders and dancers had pulled them apart.

Her eyes suddenly flashed towards him, smiling, as he brewed over his mead. He lowered his drink and lifted a hand to wave, smiling as well before a crowd separated them and she was lost in the party once more.

There was a flash of red and Eragon felt someone at his side.

"And what is the Leader of the Riders doing drinking alone into the night?" came the voice of Ismira, his niece, as she settled against the wall beside Eragon.

"He is contemplating life and all its mysteries that confound him. Really important thoughts," he replied as he looked down at her, her grey eyes observing him in kind.

"Such deep thoughts for a celebration. Have you not danced with anyone, nor drank with anyone?" she replied as she sipped from her ale.

"I have danced with many women this night: Alena, Rene, Serah, Gabrielle," he listed off his fingers in thought. "Some others too…but I cannot bring myself to remember. And I drink with you now."

"Aye, you do," she grinned. "Do you wish to dance around the glade uncle?"

"Of course, Ismira." was his answer as she set down his stein with hers and brought him towards the fire.

There they danced to the fervent beats of drums, haunting echoes of flutes and a fiddle. They laughed as they spun around the fire along with the other riders and people of his new home.

"Have you thought about what I asked you?" Eragon asked as he twirled her around by her hands, her smile faltered.

"I have," she replied, her eyes downcast. "Are you sure it is the best choice? I want to do it, but people will think it is only because I am related to you."

"What they think is none of your concern Ismira. You and I both know that this is not the case," Eragon replied calmly. "I asked you and Gavlin to join the order because you are one of my best riders, one of the earliest riders who have yet to do so."

"Because I was too busy in Alagaësia," she quickly amended. "I merely wondered, you have not offered Brandon a seat on the Order and he was a rider before me."

Eragon paused, reflecting on the past hundred years of her life. After her years of training, Ismira had spent decades as a warden of Alagaësia, her attachment to the kingdom too strong to bring her to leave. She had accomplished a great many things, but had slowly pulled herself from the place after the death of her parents.

He remembered her tear stained face as she cried to him, not being able to withstand it. The deaths of Roran and Katrina had torn her apart, but she could not and would not bear watching her siblings pass into the void. Not when she remained timeless.

"I know," Eragon sighed. "And Brandon needs another century to find himself, he is far too irrational and self centred for what I need of him in the order. The Order is still new, only thirty years have passed since I first created it. I need only the best on my council."

"Perhaps you are right," she laughed, as they continued the dance. "Then both I and Gavlin accept your offer, oh Grand Master of the Dragon Rider order. We will join the Order of the Riders to better serve Alagaësia and the other known lands."

"The lands will be better for it," Eragon nodded. "Have you thought about—"

"Taking on an apprentice?" she asked, smiling. "Yes I have, it is an appealing concept but not for now. Maybe one day. Until then Gavlin and I will continue to be your eyes in Alagaësia, maybe teach a few generic classes here and there."

"I understand," he accepted as the song came to a close.

And then someone hit him in the back and Eragon turned to find a smiling Murtagh holding three mugs of mead.

"Brother, stop stepping on dear Ismira's toes and drink with me! You too Ismira!" he laughed, motioning at them with the drinks.

"Please Murtagh, Uncle Eragon is not the one who kicked me in the shin earlier. And you were not even dancing with me," Ismira stated with her voice filled with laughter.

Eragon laughed, taking the offered drink as they moved away from the dancers.

"An honest mistake, I did not grow up to these village dances." Murtagh replied, a scowl gracing his features. "Give me a waltz and I'll show you the proper way to dance."

"Perhaps later," she agreed.

"And when will you start calling me Uncle, eh?" Murtagh continued while sipping away. "You act like we are not even family."

Eragon snorted.

"I have not known you for a hundred years," was her answer. "You only joined us here less than twenty years ago."

"Does that mean I'll gain the _honour_ in another eighty years?" Murtagh asked, prodding her side.

"If you do something to _gain the honour_, then maybe," said Ismira with a raised brow.

Eragon cut Murtagh off, "Peace brother, you fight a losing battle."

"I've noticed," he stated as he drank back the remains for his mug. He signalled towards the bar, "Another for you as well?"

Eragon glanced at the shallow remains of hid mead and sighed. "I suppose, the night is still young."

"It certainly is, and you can never drink enough." Murtagh responded with zest. "You as well Ismira?"

"No, not yet," she replied, looking at the two of them from above her mug. "I plan on retaining my dignity tonight."

"Well enjoy that then, although I am sure many boys regret your decision" Murtagh sighed as he received the mead, ignoring the flushed Ismira. Eragon took his newly filled mug as well. "Speaking of dignity and mead, have you had enough to dance with your pretty elf queen?"

Eragon nearly choked, spluttering and coughing over his mug. "What? No, I have not! And it is none of your business who I dance with, whether Arya or not."

Ismira looked confused, her puzzled expression drilling a hole through him.

"There is nothing between us Murtagh, we are simply friends. We have been since the beginning, which is to be expected considering our roles within the war," Eragon stressed, his heart plummeting at his words.

"If you are so sure," was Murtagh's response. "Nothing is stopping you from partnering with another female rider, and I am sure a few would be happy to accept, but you do not."

"I have not the time for such things," Eragon affirmed. "Saphira and I are too busy creating a land where our race will prosper for eternity. Searching the new lands and establishing peace and—"

"Yes Eragon, clearly you are pressed for time as the leader of the riders," Murtagh continued. "Yet you have time to ogle the elven Queen."

Eragon silently fumed over his drink. He couldn't argue with his mind muddled with drink.

Ismira who had remained silent over the entire encounter spoke then, "I think what really matters is that Eragon is happy, Murtagh. He takes pride in securing the lands in peace, it should not matter if he is married or not. I do not see you seeking out the hearts of the women riders either."

Murtagh laughed, "If he's going after elves then of course marriage will not matter. Nor do I need to seek out the hearts of anyone," he then sighed dramatically. "I just look forward to the day when I have nieces and nephews that will actually call me uncle."

"Ha ha ha," was Ismira's reply, clearly not amused.

Eragon looked to his brother and asked honestly, "You really are drunk aren't you?"

"Just a bit," was his reply as he chugged back more of the sweet drink and then whispered. "And look who wanders towards us! The Queen of Elves herself!"

Eragon nearly choked on his drink again as his head snapped towards the acknowledged direct.

And there was Arya making her way towards them, her radiant form wearing a beautiful pine green summers dress that cut off around her knees. She had abandoned those who she had been conversing with.

Finally she stopped before them, a peaceful smile set upon her face while her green eyes sparkled from the fires around them.

She had smiled a lot more since the war a century ago and Eragon found the entire act bewitching despite the decades he had to become use to it.

"Greetings Arya Dröttning," Ismira greeted.

"Hello Queen Arya," was Murtagh's own greeting.

"Ismira, Murtagh," Arya returned in kind, amused. "Eragon."

He nodded, hoping with his entire being that Arya had not been privy to their previous conversation.

"How was your journey to the island, Arya?" Ismira kindly asked. "Well I hope?"

"It was," she smiled. "Fírnen finds it an easy trip now; he very much likes this land of dragons."

Ismira laughed, "So does Gavlin, he is restless if we are gone for too long. It's hard to envision anywhere else as home."

Eragon saw Arya's face drop for a split second, and was about to reign in the conversation when Murtagh interrupted.

"Finally, a good song," he proclaimed. "Ismira, I would like to keep my promise now."

"What?" she questioned, confused.

"To show you a proper dance," he responded while grabbing her hand and dragging her away. Eragon watched as Murtagh winked from behind Arya, giving him what looked like encouragement.

_Good luck!_

Eragon had to restrain his hands from hiding his face.

He heard and felt Arya settling beside him, leaning upon the tree as he did.

"Murtagh looks happy here," she remarked.

"Aye, he is. I think it is because he is welcomed and accepted as the rider he should have been since the beginning." Eragon replied, looking at her with a peaceful expression. "He has dealt with the monsters placed in his mind by Galbatorix, it no longer haunts him. His time spent as a wanderer in the wild helped ease his soul."

Arya smiled, "That is good to hear. I am glad that you have family around you to keep you at peace Eragon."

"You keep me at peace too, Arya. You are my greatest friend," he stated honestly. "I am glad that you agreed to join our council and visit my home."

"I am glad as well," she agreed. "Fírnen is happy to be with Saphira again. He was restless the entire week preceding the celebration."

"Saphira too, although her mind is getting progressively muddled as the night goes on," Eragon laughed. "It would do well that you make sure Fírnen does not pick up on her habits."

Arya laughed with him before returning to her own drink and looking out at the dancing people and roaring dragons. Eragon studied her like he often found himself doing. She had not changed much over the century. Her hair was longer and held back by her glowing circlet and her clothes finer, but that was all. What had changed was the way she presented herself. She was happy, and Eragon saw it most of all. She hid little from him, free with her emotions as she had not always been.

Eragon chugged the entire contents of his glass.

He would need all the liquid courage he could get.

"Arya," his voice freeing itself from him. "Dance with me?"

She looked at him and smiled. He wondered how much she had already had to drink.

She nodded and wrapped her hand around his as they made their way to the fires.

He felt giddy and hot with her before him, one hand on her lithe waist while the other hand held her own. They twirled around the fire all while keeping eye contact, and Eragon felt flushed. Her skin was like fire and perhaps they were closer together than was socially acceptable.

"How does the magic here compare to the Agaetí Blödhren or the other celebrations? The elves and riders have been chanting and singing spells the entire night. It is rather overwhelming," said Eragon, making idle chatter to distract himself.

"It is not as potent, no," she replied, thrumming the fingers that lay on his shoulder in thought. "But our entire race sings those spells; it is not fair to compare when there are not many elves here. At least, not compared to Du Weldenvarden."

"Perhaps one day this land will thrive with magic too," he smiled. "I regret not attending the previous Agaetí Blödhren, I wish to experience it in full this time. The last time I was but a child and both you and Oromis protected me from the majority of the spells."

"The riders and dragons who attended enjoyed the celebration, it has been long since the elves and dragons celebrated their blood-oath together. Your absence was missed," Arya stated, her eyes piercing him. "Perhaps you will attend the next one."

"We will see," was his vague response. There was a sad moment shared between them as Arya search his eyes. She knew that he would not return to Alagaësia for a celebration, even with it celebrating the root of his being.

Eragon felt the regret surge throughout him.

The song ended and both he and Arya left the glade as they took to the streets of the growing town. Smaller dragons sat upon the roofs, humming and thumping their tails as the buildings shuddered beneath their bulk.

Smaller parties had broken out throughout the town as people had left the centre of festivities. They both meandered through many, taking part in them and dancing with delight.

They came upon a great crowd of dwarves and elves who sang an enchanting song. The dwarves thick and baritone with their voices as the elves sang with high enchanting sopranos and tenors along to the thumping of fists and pipes. It was beautiful and Eragon found himself clapping along with the huddle of people and riders with Arya mirroring him at his side.

Another encampment held a great many men smoking from pipes and laughing with delight at most things. Eragon found himself taking an offered pipe only to cough as the smoke invaded his lunges. He spluttered at the musky invasion as the men laughed, finding it hilarious too. Even Arya laughed at him like a chiming bell, having not choked on her own pipe.

He felt more dazed than before.

Next they came upon a circle of a cheering crowd as they watched two urgal riders wrestle and charge at each other with their horns. There were many tense moments and signs of strength until the two bucked their heads, fell apart and clapped each other on the back, laughing and roaring in delight along with their moss green and amber dragons.

They then found themselves within a tavern partaking in a drinking contest. They sat along the bar chugging back numerous mugs of dwarven mead. Some of the human youths passed out sometime after the half way mark in the race of endurance. In the end only he, Arya and a kull remained, although Eragon fell off his stool near the end as he leaned back to down the glass.

The kull ended up emptying the contents of his stomach as Arya drank the remains of the last cup of mead before her. She slammed down the glass and cheered with the rest of the bar, Eragon astonished at how well she held her liquor.

"Are you sure you are okay?" he asked as they stumbled out of the tavern.

"Yes Eragon, as fine as any. Although my mind feels like a whirlwind of madness." she admitted. "Everything is warm though."

Eragon merely looked at her is amazement, "You are amazing, you know that? I cannot believe you just out-drank a kull!"

Arya laughed, "he was a young cub of a kull though. His horns were not that big."

Eragon merely guffawed at the sight of her and her explanations.

She placed her hand on his cheek, "but thank you for the compliment."

After participating in many more dances and songs they found themselves at the top of the Rider's castle and entering Eragon's private quarters while laughing and giggling about needless yet important things.

The study was lit by the blue flames flickering from the fireplace, giving the room an eerie blue glow. Arya looked around with wonder as she spun around laughing.

"Is this where you spend your time Eragon?" she asked as she looked out the through the giant window that was an entire wall. "I recognize the shelves and chair from when we converse through mirrors."

"Aye, it is," was his response. "It is also where I conduct my private meetings and teach my students, although I have none at the moment."

"It is very nice," she stated.

"Let me show you something nicer," he laughed as he took her hand and led her through a door.

Behind it was a grand cavern so tall and wide that made them seem small in comparison. The top of the cavern broke off of the mountain while the floor continued out towards the sky as something that Saphira could launch herself off of.

It was Saphira's cave and place of rest. Despite how large she had grown over the past century, she barely took up a small quarter of the space. Eragon had made it so it would hold her for the centuries to come.

It was filled with heated stones and charts and maps. Despite being in the thick of the summer season, the top of the mountain was still cold as a fresh winter day. The heated stones helped keep it habitable though. A stone staircase leading up the back wall to a door that Eragon's sleeping quarters and the rest of his tower.

Arya let out a sound of astonishment.

"I've seen this place through Fírnen's eyes, and now with mine it is truly a sight to behold." She exclaimed.

Eragon chuckled, "I keep forgetting you have never been up here. We usually take our visits through the town and castle, but never here."

She laughed in response as she walked towards the cavern's cliff edge.

Eragon shambled after her, concentrating with all his effort to remain upright. His thoughts were so muddled by drink and magic that he felt sluggish and hot everywhere.

Finally he stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder as he watched her look out at the scene before them.

Below them the towers and castle spiralled up towards them, the town alive with fires and party goers just beyond. The giant forest framed the civilization and then beyond that a great sea could be seen, stretching out towards the moonlit and star studded sky.

They could hear the cheers and singing from even up here.

"The world is surely a beautiful place," she whispered, gazing out at the wonder before them.

"It is, but it is also filled with beautiful people," he whispered beside her. Her eyes darted towards him and they stood like that for a long time.

Suddenly Eragon felt the need to share more, his thoughts a frenzy of excitement.

"Remember back to the war when I discovered the earth was round?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, not breaking eye contact while she crossed her arms against the cool wind.

"It seems so obvious now, like the earth has left clues that no one ever noticed. Simple things," he continued, the words all streaming out of his mouth. He had yet to share his discoveries with Arya despite their numerous encounters since she first visited the home of dragons forty years previous.

"How so?" she trilled with interest, her voice like music in his befuddled mind.

"There are two reasons I have found thus far and I am sure that there are many more," he began. "The first was an understandable miss, I have never lived near the sea," he gestured toward the scene before them. "It is still a concept to get use too, but the sight has led to many things. When a ship departs into the distance, what happens?"

"I have only seen one ship depart," she whispered and a flood of emotions flowed through them at the mention of the event. "It disappears."

"Yes, but _how_ it disappears is the answer," he continued. "If you watch a ship sail out towards the horizon, it will appear to vanish bottom first."

Arya's eyes sparkled as she made a sound of understanding, "It does such because it is descending upon a slope, like watching one walk down a hill."

"Exactly," he murmured as he watched her realization wash over her slowly. She shook her head.

"It is so hard to think of when my mind is filled with magic and all that wine and mead," she sighed as she grasped her head with a hand. "What is the other reason?"

Eragon blanked for a moment as he racked his mind for the answer. It was something that he thought of often, but he was intoxication with Arya and everything else from the night.

"Ahhh," he sighed and then laughed. "I remember other one, it is a hard concept to explain, I will have to show you."

He lit his left hand on fire, channelling the light so it radiated light. He then raised his right hand in a fist outward and lined them up. His fist glowed blue from the light and fire that engulfed the other.

"Now, this hand," he motioned his left and fire filled hand. "Is the sun. And this other is the moon, a full moon."

Arya nodded, "The sun then also lights up the up moon and not just our days."

"Yes, they pass around us and take turns in our sky. They are like opposites and it is safe to say that we are between them," Eragon explained. "Now make a fist and place your hand between mine, in front of the light's rays."

Arya did so, her shoulder and side of her body touching his as she placed her hand between his. She gasped as her hand blocked the light from his right one and then proceeded to adjust her own hand left and right.

"It is the cycle of the moons," she whispered. She looked up to the real moon which was a crescent. "The darkness that covers the moon every night except when it is full...it is our shadow."

"Yes," he answered as he lowered his hands.

"The earth _is_ round," she continued in awe. "Eragon, you must show this to me again when our minds are clear. I will not remember this otherwise. Promise me."

Eragon smiled as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "I promise you Arya."

She smiled and a great bout of wind howled against the mountain, loosing snow and ice from its cap. The flurry blew at them and they retreated deeper into the cavern laughing and took refuge near a heated stone.

It did nothing for Eragon, his body already on fire and his ears thudded in tune to his heart beat.

They stood there hutched over and laughing at each other in mirth and reasons Eragon knew not. Their fit of giggles made tears come to his eyes and he took the moment to stare at Arya like he had never seen her before.

Lights popped through his vision, causing her to radiate like his own personal star. Her smile and laughter chained him to her like never before. Her eyes were like the forest and her skin like the moon itself. Her hair was soft and silky as it tumbled down around her.

He was truly smitten and in love with her. Even after a century, his feelings had only grown and expanded. It was never ending.

"You've got snow in your hair," he whispered as he placed his fingers upon her, watching the snow melt as his fingers touched her hair.

She laughed lightly as she reflected his actions and dusted off his hair, "You do as well."

When she was done her hand captured Eragon's roaming hand to her cheek and held it there. She shuddered as their eyes seemed to lock and they stood there, time's passing irrelevant to the both of them.

And then it was like the world snapped and had gone mad.

Her lips were like fire against his as she rushed forward, leaving no room between them.

His arms ensnared her and held her to him, her arms doing the same. He felt confusion as they continued their mad frenzy. Arya had cared for him for many years, perhaps even a century and she was aware of his own feelings for her. There had been embraces and kissed cheeks, brows and hands, but never this. Never this passion and she had admitted nothing.

Eragon felt the reason slip from him, his clouded mind forbidding the thought. He knew it was the same for her. He heard her gasp as he bit her neck and clutched him harder still. He lost his mind and gave into the passion and instinct that he had been holding back for a century and the entire night.

They crashed against the stone wall, their noises and breathing echoing throughout the cavern, their bodies highlighted in the darkness by the moon, stars and stones of fire.

He hoisted her up against the wall as they continued, her legs circled around his waist like a vice, her dress bunched at her thighs as they madly kissed and touched each other.

The thudding in his ears became deafening as she moaned into his ear, his face buried in her hair as he kissed her neck. All he smelled was pine and the musky scent of a forest's morning dew.

Every sensation and feeling was heightened, everything was loud. Everything seemed like fire and smelled like pine, like her. He saw darkness, redness and her along with the white lights from before. He was entranced by everything about her and he could not stop.

She was not close enough.

He could not have her enough.

Nothing was enough.

And so they kept going, their bodies moving against the cavern wall until they both cried out and fell to the floor. Everything went dark and he was blind to everything and all reasoning except that she was here and with him.

And then his mind completely faded and he was lost to the world.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope that was somewhat enjoyable. Murtagh and Ismira are fun to write (although they don't always act like that, Murtagh was pretty drunk by that point).<strong>

**Most of them were OOC, but I get to blame the alcohol. I don't even know how they drank that much. And yes, they got high too. From that laughing crowd with pipes...the smoking pipes had some fun things in them! ;) **

**Oh! And to those of you who wanted an ending to my previous fic, there is a sequel that takes form as a comic on my devpage. Check that out via my profile. It's called The Adventures of Kevan and Merrik.  
><strong>

**Look forward to Chapter 2!**

~**Eliza**


	2. Chapter 2: Alone

**Hey! First off, so sorry for the delay (it's been a while huh?) but I've been really busy!**

**School got hectic for one. But I've been working on other writing and a lot of art! A person can't really do so many things at once, and I had to prioritise. This was unfortunately not as demanding as the other things.  
><strong>

**Anyways, here's chapter two!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**Alone  
><strong>

Eragon rolled over as he slowly overcame his deep slumber; the morning sun warming him as he stretched in his bed.

His fingers ran across the bed beside him, as if looking for something. All they found was warmth, warmer than any other part of the sheets he lay on.

Everything smelled like pine.

With a jolt, Eragon sat up but the world kept moving and he lurched forward clutching his head in pain.

"Urrghraa," he groaned as everything spun around him. It felt like his brain was too big for his skull and it throbbed in pain. A wave of nausea spread through him and his tongue felt like moss had grown on it.

He murmured a spell to relieve his pain, although a dull throbbing remained. He cracked opened his eyes only for the light to attack him, but he withstood it as he looked beside him.

The bed was empty, although it looked like it had recently been occupied.

Suddenly blurred and flashes of the night before sprang to his mind as he attempted to make sense of it.

He had been with Arya in the cavern. They had spent the whole night in town celebrating. He remembered something about snow and then an image of Arya pressed against a wall before him presented itself and he flushed as more random and heated memories made it clear what had happened.

"Arya?" he whispered just as he heard the sound of a door closing from outside his bed chamber.

Panicking, he sprang from his bed and quickly found his pants to cover his otherwise nude self. They had been thrown haphazardly on a sword rack but he had little time to wonder how they had gotten there.

He raced through his rooms, his bare feet slipping, and flung open the door to the cavern. He grasped the railing to stop himself from falling down the stairs.

"Arya!"

Arya had paused in her escape as her head snapped towards him, like a doe about to bolt.

He ran down the stone steps, nearly falling as he went.

They both stood there, Arya having taken a few steps back in response to his descent. She looked wild and ruffled, her dress from the night before slightly wrinkled and Eragon could see faint red spots along her neck.

He flushed.

"Did we really..." he knew the answer, but hearing it from her would ground things. Hearing her confirmation would seal the deed that was done. He took a step forward.

"Yes," was her quiet reply as she took a matched step away from him.

"Arya...where are you—"he started.

"I am sorry Eragon Shadslayer," she cut across, her voice clipped and stern.

"Sorry?" he asked, his confusion clearly flying through him. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because what happened should not have," she replied stiffly. "And for that I apologise."

The two of them stood there for what seemed like forever.

"Arya, listen, perhaps what happened did not happen the way—" Eragon began.

"It should not have happened regardless of the circumstances!" she replied heatedly. "I was careless; I should not have forgotten myself so easily."

"You have never been more yourself than last night!" Eragon shot back in defence. Memories of her laughter and smiles flooded through him to assure him that he was right.

"You are not one to tell me who I am!" she ground out, her brow sharp in anger.

"I am someone who knows you better than anyone else Arya!" he said in anger and despair. "I know every truth about you, Arya. Your very being and true self!"

"There is little truth when impaired by magic and drink, Eragon!"

There was silence as a gust of wind entered the cavern.

"Please Arya, let us talk about this." He pleaded.

"Eragon we are worlds apart. Mine is back in Du Weldenvarden, and yours is here. We have known this as such for a century," she spoke softly, one of her hands weaving its fingers through her hair. "I did not want this to happen, I don't want to hurt you Eragon. Never you."

There were tears in her eyes.

"Arya!—"

The wind howled and a giant Emerald mass landed on the strip. Saphira quickly followed Fírnen and positioned herself beside Eragon as she faced Fírnen and an Arya who had taken advantage of the distraction to distance herself.

He quickly ran forward in pursuit.

"Arya, don't do this! Let us talk about this!" he demanded.

Fírnen let loose a fierce growl, hissing at his approach as Arya leaped to the top of his saddle. Saphira let out a growl in response in his defence. Through his heart and mind he felt the despair it caused Saphira, and faintly too, he felt Fírnen's as well.

"Arya please, don't go. Not like this," he pleaded before her and their other halves. "You must know I would never do anything to hurt you, I care about you too much. _You know my feelings Arya, you know me!"_

She did not reply right away, her eye's piercing his own as they seemed to search him.

"Yes, I do know you Eragon. That is why this is for the best. I'm sorry," she said faintly. "Farewell Eragon, Leader of the Riders."

And like some haunting dream from long ago, Fírnen swept his wings and dove off the lip of the cavern.

She was gone again. And this time, it hurt more than ever before.

It was worse than any other time.

He collapsed to his knees as tears fell down his cheeks.

He felt Saphira move to him, enclosing him with her body and wings. He was hidden from the outside world.

_Oh little one…_

"I don't understand why. What could I have done to—"

_She is confused by all this Eragon, just as much as you are. But she chose to fly away than confront the matter at hand. I felt her distress through Fírnen, do not take anything what she said to heart._

"_But, I—I can't stand this. I've destroyed us Saphira. I've ruined everything. Everything I sought to keep is gone. I lost her…"_

_It will be all right Eragon. Cry now, I will protect the both of us while you do. Then we will wake as one like before._

And so Eragon did. He had not cried in almost a century. But now any sense of happiness he had felt in his new world seemed tainted. There had always been a cause.

A hope.

But he had ruined it. And she had too.

So he laid there, curled on the stone floor while surrounded by the warmth and protection of his heart and mind.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah...It was short. But this is a chapter that could not be dragged out. Which is also why I'm embarrassed as to why it took so long! Well, if you want more, check out my deviantART (which is linked in my profile) for images and comics about this story. Although it is mostly post- A Moment in Eternity.<strong>

**Not going to lie, I don't know when I'll get the next chapter up. I've got a convention to prep/make art for (Anime North, I have an artist table). But I'll try!  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3: Learning to Live

**Hey there, long time no see!**

**Sorry for the wait! Work has kept me busy as well as many other things. The biggest was me losing the first chunk of this chapter (I have no idea where it went) and losing the will to re-write it.  
><strong>

**Hope it was worth the wait! Enjoy!  
><strong>

**insert disclaimer  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>A Night in Eternity<strong>

**Chapter III  
><strong>

**Learning to Live Again  
><strong>

The air was crisp and cold on the cliffs that overlooked the forest and small budding town. The trees and roofs were covered with snow, and with the sun shining in the sky, the world before them seemed to sparkle and glow.

It was something that made Eragon's breath catch.

With a sigh, he tore his eyes away from the sky and settled them on the small gathering at the edge of the mountainside.

There stood six young riders of varying heights and ages. They had only arrived last summer and were currently the newest riders living on the island.

_Seeing hatchlings like these always reminds me of you many years ago,_ came the voice of Saphira. _Wide eyed and foolish._

"_Oh? I could say them same for the hatchling dragons as well, you ate a lot less when you were their size," _Eragon replied before a gush of hot air flew over him.

_That wasn't very nice,_ she sniffed. _You should not speak of such things._

He chuckled softly and then felt a hand clap him on the back.

"A reaction from the emotionless leader? What a rare sight to behold after your return from your journey to the east," Murtagh chided as Eragon turned to see his brother, Ismira close behind him.

"Saphira just said something amusing, stop acting like I am made of stone brother," Eragon sighed again as he gathered his furs and cloak around him. "And why are the two of you here?"

"Well, I merely wished to observe Stannis and his teaching methods," Ismira replied, folding her hands. "I'm interested in group teachings too, and since both Gavlin and I are on the council it is something that we should know more about. We didn't have much time before due to our constant travelling in Alagaesia."

Eragon nodded, "I am glad you are taking to this, any rider will be lucky to have you as their teacher and master."

"Thanks Eragon," Ismira smiled.

"I only came to see why you bothered to come out today, Eragon. You have been quiet and shut in your studies since you've returned from the west," Murtagh stated. "Your presence is making them nervous, look, the dwarf is shaking in his boots."

Eragon rolled his eyes before glancing at the shortest of the group to see that the young dwarf Makar was in fact shaking and peeking every so often over his shoulder.

"Maybe he's nervous because you showed up, you don't have the best reputation amongst the students brother," Eragon teased. "Perhaps he's terrified that you'll choose him as an apprentice this summer."

Murtagh's brow furrowed in annoyance, "Is that why you are here, to observe these children to see if you want to train one of them? It has been nearly ten years since you have."

"Perhaps," Eragon mused. "I haven't had the chance to do so yet."

_These hatchlings do not take care of their scales as they should, so I hope that you are not considering any, _Saphira interrupted, addressing both Murtagh and Ismira as well. They all chuckled as Stannis continued to lecture the riders and their dragons.

"It doesn't matter how well you fight and move on your own, if you don't do it as a unified unit you will easily be defeated, whether it by blade or by nature itself," Stannis instructed while his large white dragon, Jakista, sat curled up behind him. His long pale hair fluttering against the wind as his sea eyes examined the noticeably dimer spirited riders before him.

"Stannis is a half elf right?" Murtagh asked quietly. "I always think he's an elf but then he acts like a human every so often. He's more direct than the tree lovers."

"Yes, he told me his parents met during the war against the empire," Eragon answered.

"Ah, perhaps that is why you like him so much and even trained him, he's like a beacon of hope to you. That there's a chance for you and your elf," Murtagh mused and Eragon had the biggest urge to push him off the cliff.

He would be fine, Thorn would have enough time to catch him.

"That goes for you especially Sarin, you may be graceful like the rest of the elves, but both you and Fetnir are a catastrophe together in the sky. You shame Queen Arya, Fírnen and all of the time you spent under their guidance in Du Weldenvarden before you journeyed to the Dragon's Hold," Stannis continued simply.

The silver haired boy bowed deeply while shouting "Just you wait Master Stannis, Fetnir and I will become the best flyers ever someday!"

A golden dragon rustled a bit from where the dragons sat. A girl laughed and Stannis only scolded the human named Darci.

"Oh, I get it now!" Murtagh whispered excitedly so that only Eragon and Ismira could hear. "You're here to watch the kid who your elf trained. What, are you hoping to see some of her influence shine through the boy?"

"What? No!" Eragon grumbled. "I'm merely passing time until the Winter Council that will be held soon."

"Murtagh, if uncle wished to study riders that the Queen of Elves has trained, I think that there would be better examples than that Sarin boy," Ismira explained. "Actually, isn't Stannis' old student helping him out today? Look, that's her right there! Rider Soareka and Zephyros."

She happily pointed the two of them out, a rider with starlight hair who was leaning against a gray dragon with a blank expression on her face.

"Why would Eragon care about Soareka? She was Stannis' student and she's always in the south and east anyways," Murtagh sighed. "Stop trying to save Eragon from me, it's the only fun I can have on this piece of rock anyways."

"But they both trained under Arya for over a year before they actually travelled here, and that was only because Zephyros could learn more from Jakista because both of them have similar builds while Fírnen is more bulky," Ismira continued with an innocent smile on her face. "She's been influenced by Arya more than anyone else on this island right now."

Ismira had finally betrayed him.

"_Really?"_ Murtagh said, and Eragon could literally sense the amusement radiating off of him. "What, are you hoping that Arya's guidance will radiate through her little elves that she likes to train herself?"

"_No, I am not,_" Eragon ground out in his building annoyance before sighing and holding up his arms in surrender. He could hear Saphira laughing through his mind. "I'm here because Stannis invited me to come out today and check out the riders and their flying after being here for six months. He hoped that maybe that I'd find one to train. As for Rider Soareka, Stannis mentioned that she'd be here and thought I should consider her as a new addition to the council."

"Ha! Stannis would love that. One of his prized students becoming as master rider? Him and the other council members probably have a bet going to see which of their students get chosen," Murtagh laughed.

"Well she and Zephyros would be a great choice, even Travis and Speira would be great. I think those four are the most notable amongst the current riders," Ismira pushed.

They stood silently then, as Stannis had his student take to the sky as an example for the younglings. The pair seemed to dance in the sky.

"Perhaps…" Eragon sighed as his eyes drifted off to the distance and towards the western sea once again.

* * *

><p>Eragon and Murtagh were slowly walking up the trail that led through the forest and up to the castle. Saphira, and Thorn had taken off to hunt while they attended the Winter Council.<p>

Ismira had stayed behind to talk to Stannis.

"Eragon, what truly bothers you?" Murtagh suddenly asked, breaking a peaceful silence that they had kept since the cliffs.

Eragon stopped walking and turned to face his brother, his gray eyes seeming to search his own dark ones.

"Nothing really. I really hope there isn't any drama at this year's meeting," Eragon replied. "But I worry about that every six months."

Murtagh's brow furrowed, "It does not do well to dwell on the past brother. I know this more than anyone."

Eragon remained silent.

"Is that why you kept looking out at the sky?" Murtagh questioned further.

"I am worried that she will not come," Eragon replied after several moments. "She left before the Summer Council last time."

"And if she doesn't come, then that is her issue, not yours Eragon," Murtagh sighed. "She can do whatever she wants, you should know that more than anyone."

"But—"

"But nothing, Eragon. You two messed up last time, perhaps it was not meant to be," Murtagh interrupted. "Sometimes these things just do not work out. Even if you love that person very much."

Eragon had no words to say in response.

"Alright, let's go, we are going to be late if we stand here any longer," Murtagh sighed and threw his arm over Eragon's shoulder as he forced him forward. "We'll go for drinks in the town after this, you and I. There's this pretty little—"

Murtagh's words were momentarily drowned out by the sound of thunderous wings as a dragon flew over them. The sensation and sound had taken Eragon years to get use to after the first riders came to the island. It was but a common occurrence now and it brought a smile to his face.

It was the sound of the world that he and Saphira had fought endlessly toward.

He absentmindedly looked up to catch a glimpse of the dragon through the trees.

He froze.

"What?" Murtagh asked, stopping his envisioned plans for the evening.

"That was Fírnen," Eragon gasped, finally letting his words leave his throat.

"No, Eragon," Murtagh started. "Don't get your hopes up like that, it was probably Rider Owen and Daruk."

"No, that was Fírnen! I know it was!" Eragon mumbled and his limbs regained their feeling and his veins pulsed.

He took off up the path, as fast as he could possibly run. Murtagh was right behind him.

They broke through the forest and Eragon found no sign of the green dragon and its rider. But he ran through the gates and courtyard and up the steps.

Nearly slipping on the iced cobbled steps as he turned to run down the exposed hall, he skidded and caught himself on the rail and continued onwards.

Finally the hall opened up to reveal a giant and open balcony and acted as landing and launching area for the riders and their dragons. There were many throughout the castle, but this was the one that was in front of the Order's council room.

No one was outside, but some of the Order's dragons sat and slept on the strip.

They were late, it seemed. Even Gavlin and Jakista were present.

And there, beside the azure and white dragon, lay a giant emerald dragon with yellow eyes.

Eragon slowed to a halt as Fírnen watched him.

_She came._

Fírnen didn't greet him, merely watched as Eragon continued at a noble pace with Murtagh by his side into the council chamber.

There were currently only sixteen order members, including him. And they were all inside. Some were sitting on their seats while others stood and chatted with each other.

Eragon was planning on expanding the council as the number of experienced riders grew.

He had barely walked five feet into the grand hall of stone and fire when he found her.

She was sitting in her respective seat, her circlet holding back her black hair as it tumbled down around her. She wore silken green tunic lined in silver, a travellers cloak still wrapped around her shoulders.

Her eyes briefly met his, an act that froze him to a standstill before they drifted off to examine her fingers as they drummed on the arm rest of the stone throne like seat.

"_Not now, Eragon," _Murtagh's voice echoed within his mind as he felt him tug on his arm.

He had no effort to fight him and soon he found himself within his own seat.

The council proceeded as it always had.

Eragon found himself rarely speaking and not really paying attention.

His attention only surfaced when Arya gave her report about the happenings in Du Weldenvarden and how an egg had recently hatched for an urgal girl a few weeks ago.

When she was done she resumed her silent watch, her eyes not daring to go anywhere near him.

Suddenly, Eragon found himself facing an emptying hall and he jumped forward as he realised that she had vanished.

He practically ran out of the giant hall only to find that Fírnen no longer sat upon the strip, he was gone.

She was gone.

He scanned the skies for them over the horizon as the sun began its journey down, nearing the evening.

They had been in there for hours. He had hardly noticed.

Eragon, at a loss, scrambled for ideas. Perhaps she had not left yet. Maybe Fírnen had gone hunting with Saphira and Thorn?

There was still a chance.

He had to see her, he had to speak to her.

He couldn't let her leave.

Not again.

And so Eragon raced through the icy castle, his cloak billowing behind him as he checked the gardens that they had often walked. The library where had spent some afternoons during her visits. He looked everywhere.

But she was never there.

He had tried calling on Saphira the entire time, perhaps they could still chase after them if they had truly gone? Perhaps Fírnen _was_ with her and he knew where his rider had gone. But Saphira was too far, and he could not reach her.

He found himself walking through his personal study and out into the open cave in defeat.

How could this have happened?

The sun was setting as he climbed the stairs to his living quarters. Everything was dyed in red, pinks and purples as he opened the door and closed it behind him as he threw his cloak off of him.

He trudged down the hall in silence, his destination the room at the end of the long hall.

He never made it that far.

He stood frozen at the entrance to his sitting room.

There stood Arya, her back towards him as she silently observed the room that was covered in fairths and other oddments that he had received throughout his travels in the new lands. Her cloak had been draped over the back of the couch, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Arya," he uttered in disbelief and before he could say anymore she turned to face him.

Their eyes met, her emerald eyes watching him as he shambled into the room slowly.

"This room is nice, I like it," she said softly. "Where are these from?"

She gestured to the many fairths on the walls. And he knew she did not mean the ones of her, their dragons and memories of Alagaesia.

"From the many places me and Saphira have visited over the years and the people we met there," he replied. "This world is truly a beautiful place, it's never ending, the wonders I find within it."

"But none are from Alagaesia," she continued.

"There are some," Eragon stated.

"But they aren't as clear as the rest. You did not make them there, they are blurred."

"That's to be expected, I have spent most of my life here and travelling the new worlds," he said in his defence. "I can barely remember my time there, for what are seventeen years compared to over a century?"

There was a pause as she took in his words, she had said something similar to him once.

"This is truly your home then," Arya sighed. "You're never coming back to Alagaesia again. Not ever."

They now stood closer together; she was just a few strides before him. He could smell the scent of pine.

They stood in silence.

"I thought you had left again," he whispered, their eyes still locked on each other. "But why are you here now?"

She sighed as she ran her hand through her hair, removing her circlet only to throw it on the couch behind her. Her hands dug into her hair as she let out a more frustrated sigh.

"Because we must talk about this," she replied.

"You didn't want to, remember?" he said, his emotions breaking out through his words. "And you're right, perhaps it should not have happened. I have spent these past months thinking about it. It nearly drove me mad, the thought of losing you forever. But I do not want that. I've never wanted that."

He dropped to his knees, and she seemed startled by his actions.

"I've only wanted the opportunity to apologise to you. I am sorry, for whatever distress I have caused you," he cried softly and tearlessly.

She moved towards him and sank to her knees before him.

"I accept your apology, but know that you are not the only one at fault, we were both at fault," Arya whispered. "And for that _I_ am sorry. I am sorry for everything."

She smiled softly, "I once told you that we could be more…someday. But that was before our worlds split apart. Before the night winds snatched you away to this place. In truth, I fled from you last summer in fear that my resolve had been broken. Understand that I was confused and spent the months being driven mad almost as much as you might have been."

She laughed lightly and he said nothing.

"Eragon, we see each other perhaps twice a year if we are lucky, you know that such—" she started to say.

"That is why I am happy that you forgive me, and I've never held it against you. I just want things to be as they always have been," he said desperately. "Before…"

She studied him silently for a moment, "Eragon some things cannot be undone…"

"I know that!" he insisted, his heart pounding. "But we've managed to be friends after all this time, you are my happiness. It doesn't matter that we are worlds apart, that I am the Leader of the Riders or that you are the Queen of the Elves."

"In the end we are just two simple beings. You'll always be Arya and I'll always be Eragon. I'll be whatever you want me to be Arya. Whether that is just Eragon, your friend, a Rider, or just something that could have been," he whispered. "Where we are does not change things. I'll do whatever it takes, because I love you Arya. I always have."

He heard her breath catch and eyes widen. He panicked and started to prattle on nervously. "I mean, I know that maybe you don't want to hear that. But it is true. I really do—"

He stopped rambling as Arya leant forward and placed her head on his chest.

She sighed.

"You know, I wished that it did not happen the way it did. That we were not encouraged by the influences of meads and magic," she hummed against him. "That is perhaps my biggest regret, the one that bothered me the most since the summer. I thought about many things, that something between us was impossible due to our roles in life. That perhaps our distance was too far away to survive. That maybe I had been a fool, doing the things I did without thinking. I was so scared then."

Eragon felt like his heart was going to explode.

"But Eragon, is this not what living is about. Making mistakes and learning from them; this is what being alive means," she continued as she pulled away. "Things cannot be undone, no matter how much I wish I could go back and undo them. I hate myself for letting that happen the way it did. But we're here now because of it."

Her hand cupped his face, "You said you would be anything I needed you to be right? I want you to be Eragon, I want you to be the Leader of the Riders. And I'm the Queen of Elves, but I'm also me. Nothing will change this. No matter what happens. It's taken me many years to decide what I want, to decide that this is what I want. I only just realised recently."

"Arya…" he began but her fingers gently tapped his lips to hush him.

He didn't resist.

She drew closer, "I did not want…" she paused as her fingers moved off his lips. "Our first time to be like that you know, I think that is what upset me the most. I can barely even remember… It's like your fairths of Alagaesia, except so much more faded."

She smiled softly, "I appear to talk too much when I am nervous," and then suddenly her hands pulled him forward as she kissed him.

She was kissing him.

His heart nearly gave out right there.

He groaned as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She didn't object, instead she pushed him back and onto the floor. The sweet kiss became passionate as she pressed against him. They both moaned as their tongues pressed against each other in some frantic dance.

She pulled away and they both laughed. He was breathing so heavily and all he could see above him was Arya and her bright eyes as her hair tumbled down freely around them.

"I want to remember it this time," she whispered as she nuzzled into his neck.

He nodded and rolled so that he was below him, her pale face flushed pink as her eyes darkened.

"I love you, Arya," he stated as he caressed her face, his other hand intertwined with hers.

She smiled as she ran her free hand through his hair.

"I love you too, Eragon."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm going to try and weed for grammar mistakes in the morning when my eyes aren't battling with me and telling me to go to sleep.<strong>

**It's not entirely over yet! Also thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, even if I don't reply, I've read every single one! Thanks so much!  
><strong>

**If you want to read more about this fic verse the the future, I suggest checking out my comics on my dA. The link to which you can find on my profile.  
><strong>

**See yah next time! **

**Eliza~  
><strong>


End file.
